


remembrance

by ObscureReference



Series: back to the sun, back to the shore, back to what i was before [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Community: FFXV_Kinkmeme, FFXV kinkmeme, Light Angst, M/M, Past Lives, Pre-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 13:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10720311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: FFXV Kinkmeme Prompt:Prompto x Ardyn back during Ardyn's time as Healer. Because two pure, innocent balls of light and cute is to die for.+ they meet because Ardyn heals Prompto of the Scourge++ Prompto journeys with Ardyn for a while+++ it includes Ardyn's execution and turning into the Accursed with Prompto still adamantly caring about him





	remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Notes from the kinkmeme: "A/N: I figured Prompto's name wouldn't be the same in the past, so I changed it to something a little older sounding. Philophrosyne was a Greek spirit of friendliness, welcome, and kindness, and one of the younger Charities. So I hope you think it fits. Also I'm considering de-anoning over on ao3, but I've never done that before, so we'll see how that goes. I hope you like it, OP!"
> 
> I've never actually posted from any kinkmeme anywhere else before, so please tell me if I've done something wrong. As a side note, I'm busy enough not to update my longer ffxv series rn, but I promise I'll be working on it more as soon as I have less school work! Thank you for your patience!

“No,” Philo breathed. “That’s—That’s not fair!”  
  
Ardyn said nothing, though he silently agreed. But he would never vocalize it. Whether the Astrals declared it so or not, he was still the king and a Healer and he would not let Philo think he’d regretted what he’d done for even a second. Even if it had led to this.  
  
“They can’t—” Philo stumbled on the rocks, but he righted himself before Ardyn could steady him. The air itself felt wrong.  
  
Ardyn let his arm fall and he looked at the shore, at where the sea dashed over the stones, and imagined himself dashing the Astrals there instead for their betrayal. He let Philo’s words wash over him.  
  
“They can’t just _do_ that,” Philo said, frantic. He faced the ocean rather than his king, standing just out of reach, and something about that made Ardyn’s chest clench. “You’ve done everything for them! You were born a Healer! You were meant to heal! This isn’t—”  
  
A gull’s cry swallowed the rest of the sentence. _This isn’t fair._  
  
That was all the Astrals seem to deal in, for all they claimed to be righteous and holy. Injustice.  
  
It hadn’t been fair when hundreds had fallen under the thrall of the Starscourge, their own bodies betraying them.  
  
It hadn’t been fair when it seemed like the most innocent—those like Philo, sweet and light and suffering—became infected most often while more twisted men were left alone.  
  
It hadn’t been fair when Ardyn had traveled all of Eos in search of treating every last person he’d come across, taking the poison into his own body to heal the rest, but he had done it anyway. As their king.  
  
And now the Astrals had stripped that all away from him, leaving only rot and the unlucky behind.  
  
The wind whipped by, carrying sea spray and the scent of fish, and Philo spun around to face Ardyn. For once, though, his bare feet did not slip on the slick rocks. His face was pale, his eyes wide, and he was clearly waiting for the king to say something.  
  
Ardyn looked at him.  
  
The humidity had mussed Philo’s hair into an unkempt mess. He looked not unlike a bird. Ardyn would have taken a moment to tease him for it if not for the heavy weight that now sat on both of their shoulders.  
  
He looked down at his hands. His skin was still tan. He felt cold despite the sun, but that might have just been from the metaphorical knife sticking out of his back rather than a sign of daemonic influence. He felt human. As human has he always had, at least.  
  
But the Astrals, damned beasts that they were, had decreed him tainted.  
  
And if that were true…  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Philo’s fingers curled over his, and Ardyn followed the line of skin until he found Philo’s face. Ardyn could almost feel Philo’s heartbeat under his fingertips, wild and worried, and he wondered if that was his imagination or something else.  
  
But Philo’s face had softened, and Ardyn found he cared for little else besides basking in the affection Philo provided.  
  
“You’re going to be okay,” Philo said. “ _We’re_ going to be okay. We’ll get through this.”  
  
Philo was warm and more human than any person Ardyn had ever met.  
  
Ardyn remembered how Philo had looked the day they first met—gasping and shuddering, black taint twisting under his skin like vines determined on strangling him from the inside out. He remembered the way Philo had melted under his touch as Ardyn had cupped his cheek, the whimper of relief he’d unconsciously let out as Ardyn had relieved him of the pain.  
  
He could despise the Astrals for their hand in it all, for their double-crossing nature, but he would never bring himself to regret taking the Starscourge into his own body to heal others. Never.  
  
“Philophrosyne,” Ardyn said, ignoring the way Philo wrinkled his nose at the use of his full name. “I am no longer your king.” Oh, how it pained him to say that. He was king enough, but not in the eyes of those that mattered. “Soon word will spread, and I will be exiled. I will not ask this of you.”  
  
“I love you,” Philso said, “and you saved me. I will not abandon you now.”  
  
_No, dear,_ Ardyn thought. _It is you who has saved me._  
  
Philo dropped Ardyn’s hands only to wrap his arms around Ardyn’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Philo’s lips were hot against Ardyn’s mouth. They did not kiss passionately, instead barely moving at all. Ardyn relished the feeling of skin against skin, of Philo’s touch, more than the act itself. It wasn’t sexual. It was a reminder.  
  
After a moment, Philo pulled back, anxious. Ardyn only opened his eyes just enough to see through slits.  
  
“You’re kissing a daemon,” he murmured.  
  
“I’m kissing the man I love,” Philo said, “and he is kind and gentle.”  
  
He kissed Ardyn again, and stopped for air only when Ardyn wrapped his arms around Philo’s waist, finally pulling him close.  
  
He threaded his fingers through Ardyn’s hair. “We’ll be fine. We’ll figure something out.”  
  
Ardyn pressed his forehead against Philo’s and held him tighter.  
  
  
  
  
Two thousand years in the future, Prompto Argentum woke up.  
  
“Wha—“  
  
He rolled over.  
  
Normal ceiling. Normal walls. Normal couch.  
  
Prompto breathed out, rubbing the sleep from his eye.  
  
Weird dream.  
  
His cell phone advertised that it was some unholy hour of the morning, so he swung his legs off the couch and staggered upright. Sleeping in a bed was a much better idea than sleeping in the living room. He had been waiting for his parents, but he should have known to wait upstairs instead. If they hadn’t come home yet, it was too late now. He could catch them tomorrow instead. Maybe.  
  
Drowsy and slightly off balance, Prompto made his way to bed.  
  
  
  
  
Somewhere else, a man of no consequence relived a memory.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm okay with Ardyn/Prompto as long as it's not, like, super dark and torture-y. (I.e. a world where Ardyn isn't a huge dickbag.) (No shame on anybody who does like it! It's just not my thing. But whatever floats your boat!)
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment below or hit me up on my [tumblr!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/)


End file.
